


Peaches and Cream

by Filigree



Series: Food Fantasies [2]
Category: Eroica Yori Ai o Komete | From Eroica with Love
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Food Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-18
Updated: 2010-09-18
Packaged: 2017-10-11 23:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filigree/pseuds/Filigree





	Peaches and Cream

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 日本語 available: [日本語訳：Peaches and Cream](https://archiveofourown.org/works/712549) by [BasilLeaves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BasilLeaves/pseuds/BasilLeaves)



Klaus trudged down the hall toward his flat. The Schloss was simply too far a drive, tonight. He wanted a bath, a beer, and bed, nothing complicated. He'd been on grueling three-week missions that hadn't left him as tense as this one hellish Friday of deskwork.

He snarled slightly at the door-pad, when his electronic card key pinged cheerily as he swiped it through. Better than metal keys, though – with his luck, he'd have broken the damned thing off in the lock.

Parlour, cool and dark. Briefcase thumped down on the floor. Klaus turned toward the kitchen, wondering if there was any food left to go with the beer.

Lights in the kitchen. Cooking-type noises, sizzles and pops and hisses that heralded a wafting, wonderful scent.

"Good evening, Major," said a familiar voice even better than the cooking smells.

"Dorian," said Klaus, trying to stifle his grin.

"I hope you don't mind, dear heart," the blond called out. "It's more domestic than I prefer, all this shopping and cooking and such. But _this_ is easy, and I thought you might need it."

"Dorian," Klaus tried again, and gave up when the thief sallied out of the kitchen with an opened beer bottle in hand. Dorian held it out with a self-mocking grin, as Klaus peered behind him at a smoking skillet on the electric range.

"Olive oil, onions, sausage, and potatoes," Dorian offered.

Klaus grabbed the beer and strode into the kitchen he rarely used. The skillet didn't even look familiar. "Love of God, Dorian, turn the vent system on, or you'll have all the fire-alarms going off!" He slapped at a button over the range, before gulping the beer. "When I gave you a key --"

"You expected me to be lolling decoratively in your bed? With melted chocolate?" Dorian trilled, just the look in his eyes reminding Klaus of certain recent incidents involving chocolate. "That would be predictable. Can't have that, or I'll be losing my edge in other ways. Here. Hold these, they're still beastly cold from the store. Why people see fit to refrigerate perfectly good fruit --"

Unceremoniously, he took the empty bottle from Klaus. Replaced it with two large ripe peaches.

"Gahhh!" said Klaus, then settled. They were cold, but the chill soothed his typing-cramped hands. Fucking deskwork, he thought. Then he caught a glimpse of Dorian's secret smile, as the blond attacked the skillet with a spatula and a grease-screen. Wait a minute.

"Why," began Klaus with dignity, "am I holding two peaches?"

"To warm them up faster, so we can eat them after dinner. Room temperature is too slow. Hot water just makes them gooey, and the microwave is out of the question --"

Klaus sighed, leaning back against the counter. There was another reason, he was certain. He didn't put it past Dorian to have chilled the fruit in the first place. It was another sensual game, or the start of one, and Klaus knew it would go faster if he was patient.

He wasn't patient. "What are you getting at?" he growled.

Dorian didn't even look back over his shoulder. "You, I hope. Fed and washed and just slightly-drunk, and naked in a bed with me. It's been three weeks."

Well, two could play that game. "Did you ever get the chocolate stains out of those sheets?" Klaus husked, liking the way Dorian shivered at just the sound of his hungry voice.

"No," Dorian chuckled. "Even after three washes. James had a fit when I bought new ones, and I'm sure Oxfam had a fit when they opened the donation bin --"

"You filthy --"

"Ah, ah!" Dorian warned, brandishing the spatula. "We agreed, no name-calling. Because I can give as good as I get, soldier-boy!"

"Are you burning dinner for a reason?" Klaus asked mildly, just to see the thief whirl about, cursing.

#

Dinner wasn't burned after all. It was heavenly, much better than the solitary meal Klaus would have had. At the end of it, Klaus picked up the peaches that had thawed first in his hands, and then on the little dinner table.

"What now?"

Dorian reached, his clever fingers snagging one of those fuzzy, rose-golden spheres. "Hold the other one, Klaus. Now close your eyes."

Klaus obeyed, wondering when he was going to get kissed or attacked. Nothing happened. "Eh?"

"Just keep them closed. I want you to concentrate on that peach. The weight of it, the scent, the feel of the skin. Just do that, hmm?"

Dorian kept up some other gentle blather about the grocery store, the trip to Bonn, a heist he'd been halfheartedly planning. Silly background noise. If he wanted Klaus' full attention, the thief's voice would have changed tone and cadence.

The peach had gone from a cold mass to a warm and yielding one. Klaus found his thumb stroking the velvet nap, digging in slightly just to feel the way the flesh gave ever so slightly. Its scent drifted up, or he'd bent his head to nuzzle closer. The smell made him think of late summer and green-gold afternoons, the brief luxury of solitude between school terms.

"-- Rain slanting down, glittering between sunshine and clouds, so rich it felt like being inside a painting, or a jewel --" Dorian murmured. "No, don't open your eyes yet, dear Major. This is just what I think of, a September storm up at the manor. What does it remind you of?"

The smell of ripe peaches brought Klaus suddenly, guiltlessly, back to hiking alone through a peach orchard south of the Gymnasium. Had he been fourteen or fifteen? Nowhere near his full growth, but already strong and stubborn enough to win most of the fights his looks and temper got him into.

Alone, blessedly alone in the orchard, hands sticky with the juice of stolen peaches, he'd stumbled onto another side-effect of being a teenaged boy.

One hand on a peach. One ghosting over the front of his trousers -- and oh, how even that simple movement felt so good! How on earth could this be a sin? -- then sliding inside the loosened waistband.

Klaus groaned, a similar erection surging to life just now. The weight of the peach became something else: soft fuzz, warm flesh, a round template to show him where to touch himself through the fabric of his dress slacks. Where to stroke, or pull, or let his fingernails track lightly over the quivering handfuls of his own --

"Sshhh," Dorian soothed from very near. "Don't speak. Just keep on --"

Eyes closed, lips and teeth nibbling without breaking the peach-skin, Klaus settled back in his chair and let another warm pair of hands open his pants. Tease inside his boxers, caress the back of his own hand, before stroking up and down his shaft. The expert touch blended with the memory of that first stunned self-exploration, until Klaus could not truthfully say where he was, or when --

Pleasure made him twitch and groan, and shudder again at Dorian's breathless laugh in his ear. Another jolt made Klaus' teeth nip involuntarily. The fragrant sweetness of the fruit flooded his mouth. Dorian's tongue followed that, mysterious and intimate, innocent and wanton all at the same time. Dorian's hand, Klaus' hand -- it suddenly didn't matter who set the pace or who followed, only that there was a climax at the end of it all.

Faced with the choice of screaming or biting down, Klaus bit. Twin starbursts followed, two different scents that he knew would be forever mingled in new memory.

Dorian wiped off his fingers on a paper napkin, straddled Klaus' hips, and leaned forward for a bite at the thoroughly-mangled peach. "Now I see why you won't reciprocate at the same time," the blond purred after swallowing. That was a procedure that made Klaus' blood pressure spike again. "No control whatsoever."

Klaus hefted the peach warningly. "Keep that in mind."

"Oh, my dear, I will. Hmmm. Do you think --" one of those sticky hands trailed along Klaus' jaw. "-- That you could keep your mouth empty long enough to talk about that particular turn-on?"

Klaus grabbed the other peach from the tabletop, folded Dorian's hands around the fruit. "Very well, I shall. As long as you keep your hands -- and your mouth -- on that."

Dorian looked back through spiky dark lashes, and wriggled on Klaus' lap. He licked the peach consideringly, gauging the effect on his lover. "Just remember. You told me to do it."

 

fin


End file.
